𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 ✩ Ivar The Boneless

✩ chapter VI, act III ✩

"I kissed her. She kissed right back. How perfect was the world then."
chapter VI, act III ✧ 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔

To say Ivar was completely fucked with his brothers was a misunderstanding. As each one of them lowered themselves to place a significant object into Sigurd's soon to be pyre, they stared at the murderer, their eyes filled with disbelief and anger.

Nero stood by Björn. She had pledged alliance to him and she wasn't there to support him after the death of his brother. She would be now.

Silent tears fell down Ivar's face and her heart clenched at the sight. Nero had bottled up all her emotions, all of them, she had not wept for Helga, she would not weep for Sigurd, not when the Ragnarssons needed her to be strong.

She had woken up to an empty bed the next morning. Ivar wasn't known for showing himself weak to others, so she knew it would take some time before he would come back to her, with his mind more at ease. It would be best for both, she needed time to process the events of the previous night. She knew he believed Sigurd's words, she knew that was what hurt him most.

The thought that his mom and she were the only ones who would ever appreciate him consumed the boy, enraged him to his core. The wolf barely noticed time passing as she found her hands clutching a mug of mead, sitting in a dark cabin.

"I know what you're all thinking," Ivar began and Nero sighed, allowing her head to fall on one of her hands. She sat next to Harald. The man was bringing her some sort of comfort as he was the only one who didn't act as if she was bound to break at any point. She had faint memories of Ivar whispering sweet nothings to her as he re-patched her wound, so in all truth, it was more than healing well, "but it is not true! I didn't mean to kill him."

The boy had cared for her through the night, but her sleepiness made her fail to remember their interactions. All she fully remembered was his wish to not disappoint her, and her holding him as he cried.

Harald slightly tapped Nero's shoulder causing her to raise her head from her hands, "Yes?" she questioned her voice low, not wishing to interfere in the parallel conversation that went on in front of the two. His gaze flickered to Ivar, signaling to him and she knew what the king wanted to know, "I believe him. They were brothers, yes, but what would you have done at the face of public humiliation?"

The king sighed, agreeing. Björn stormed in and immediately scoffed at his brother's excuses. He looked down at Nero who had stopped listening to the whole thing, the girl had been incredibly airy for the day, basking in her own pain and thinking of her life, of her death. Maybe Sigurd was right, maybe she would soon die.

She noticed the oldest Ragnarsson pacing back and forth angrily, and then her eyes trailed to Ivar, who was barking something at Ubbe. She grabbed onto Björn's wrist, knowing his uneasiness would only make an already bad situation even worse, "Stop."

Ivar crawled out of the cabin, knowing nobody believed his words. Nero groaned in annoyance, she didn't know what to do. How to help. Ubbe got to his feet just as Nero did as well. The boy placed his cup on the table and looked at Björn, his eyes filled with concern, "You cannot leave him in charge of the Great Army."

"That is your affair, Ubbe," the prince mocked, and Nero sat by Hvitserk, but she still refused to look at him, she realized she had loved him dearly as a friend, and that such love was enlaced with a bit of lust for each other, but that did not make whatever they felt to be romantic love, "you're his big brother. You take charge. I told you, this is none of my concern. I plan to return to the Mediterranean"